Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 5

Timothy arched an eyebrow, staring irritably at the razor in his hand.

"Whatever. I'll just make do."

After Henry got up, father and son sat down together for breakfast.

Henry had barely tasted his chicken noodle soup before he grimaced and called out, "Mom, did you put too much salt in this?"

No answer.

He tried again, a little louder. "Mom?"

Timothy replied calmly, "Stop calling, your mom isn't home."

Immediately, Henry tapped at his smartwatch, trying to call Jessica, but her phone was switched off.

Lowering his voice, Henry said, "Dad, do you think Mom's upset and ran away?"

"She didn't."

With both him and their son at home, Timothy was certain Jessica wouldn't just leave.

"Good. I still think Mom's breakfasts taste better, though."

Neither of them really enjoyed the meal that morning; it just didn't compare to what they were used to.

"Dad, last night Mom made Miss Sheila so mad she left. Is she coming to see me today?"

"She twisted her ankle and is in the hospital. She probably won't be able to visit today."

Henry's face tightened with worry. "Oh no, Miss Sheila hurt her foot? That must really hurt. Dad, can you call school for me? I want to go visit Miss Sheila."

Timothy's tone was firm. "No. School comes first."

Henry dropped his head, not daring to push further, and mumbled, "Can I go see Miss Sheila after school, then?"

"That's fine."

Henry slid off his chair, ran over, and flung his arms around Timothy, standing on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his father's cheek.

"Dad, you're the best! After school, come pick me up early, okay? So we can go visit Miss Sheila together."

Timothy ruffled Henry's hair and stood up, personally taking him to school.

After they left, Mabel came into the master bedroom with her cleaning supplies. Normally, Mrs. Williams took care of the room herself, so it was already spotless. Mabel couldn't understand why Mr. Williams had specifically asked her to clean it.

She opened the window to let in some air.

Even though the place was immaculate, she still methodically wiped down every surface.

Outside, the wind was picking up.

Under the bed, a cancer diagnosis letter was pushed even further out of sight…

The night before, Jessica had returned to her hometown.

By the time she'd tidied up the house, the sun was already up.

Exhausted, she finally turned off her phone, wanting nothing more than a quiet, uninterrupted sleep.